


Sorrows of the Wolf

by Alisienna



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisienna/pseuds/Alisienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nirya Lavellan works through the revelation of Solas' true identity and agenda while also dealing with the fallout of the dissolution of the Inquisition. The consequences of not only her actions but those of her companions come into play in unexpected ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nirya felt the tingle that heralded a new burst of power from the Anchor and braced herself. This new onslaught of pain was worse than the others, and she could not keep the cry of anguish locked behind her lips. It tore from her throat as she fell to her knees, a high-pitched keening that ended in gasping sobs. She saw Solas flinch in sympathy, actually take a step back from her, closer to the mirror behind him.

She reached out to him, tears streaming from her eyes. “Please, Solas, _vhenan,_ please -- Not again – ahhhh!” Nirya’s words were swallowed by another scream of pain as the Anchor burst again, green lines of its foul magic licking up her arm. She clamped her good hand around her wrist in a vain attempt to control the pain.

Solas knelt beside her, closing one of his hands around her glowing fist. The other he held a few inches above it, and he must have done something because the Anchor’s glow immediately subsided, along with the pain. Nirya gasped in relief, grabbing onto Solas’ forearms and laying her head on his shoulder.

Solas closed his eyes and let himself just hold her, letting her have a moment to collect herself, to process all the events of the last two days. Letting _himself_ indulge in these precious last few moments with her; he knew the next time they spoke, they would be enemies.

Nirya shuddered and lifted her head, using one hand to wipe the tears from her face. Solas helped, gently pushing back the stray hairs that had fallen out of her bun to stick to her cheeks. Both of them saw the realization that they were running out time reflected in the other’s eyes. Solas dropped his gaze, brow furrowing in renewed anguish. Nirya’s grip tightened on his arm.

“Solas,” she said, voice pleading. He began shaking his head. “Solas, please don’t leave me again, not like this.”

“ _Vhenan_ , I –“

Nirya threw herself on him, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close to her. She knew she must have seemed desperate; she didn’t care, because she _was_ desperate. “The last two years…I mourned you!” she hissed. “ _Isalan_ _na_ …just a little longer? If you have to leave again, don’t I at least merit that?” She sniffled, new tears that had nothing to do with the Anchor spilling down her cheeks.

Solas gently reached back and pulled her hands down, away from him. “ _Ir arbelas,_ Nirya. _Rya’rosan. Ara vir nadas.”_ He stepped back, releasing her hands.

He had kept his voice low in an attempt to hide it, but Nirya heard the quaver in his words nonetheless. Taking a step toward him, she answered him in elvhen, sudden anger coloring her tone. “Nothing is inevitable, Solas!”

They stood inches apart, not touching, the light from the perpetual sunset of the Crossroads mixing with the glow of the eluvian to tinge their skin in colors of gold and blue and green. Nirya’s eyes flicked back and forth, searching the depths of his grey-blue ones for anything, _anything_ , that mirrored her own inner turmoil. Solas stared back, his gaze unflinching, allowing her to see that he _did_ love her, what they had _was_ real, and still…

“This is, _vhenan_. There is…no other way,” he said, voice barely a whisper. Even as he said the words, his hands gave the lie to them, reaching up to cup her face. The touch caused Nirya to close her eyes, overwhelmed with memories she had tried to so hard to bury for the last two years. She stood absolutely still under his hands, as if he were a sparrow and not a wolf, a bird that would take flight at the slightest provocation.

Solas’ eyes traced her face, following his fingers, touch lingering on the new scars she had gained in his absence. His own features softened as he let more of the love he felt for her show through, as if gazing upon the face he had grown to adore made it more impossible to hide. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her, pressing his lips against hers in the way he had that was at once foreign and familiar.

It was only then that Nirya dared to move, slowly, carefully placing her hands on his arms, pulling him closer to her as the kiss deepened. She tried to tell him through the movement of her lips, the touch of her hands, how desperate she was for him, how deep the feelings she’d carried inside her for years actually went.

The growl that rose from the back of Solas’ throat confirmed the depth of his own feeling, his _desire_ , and he seized her by the waist, pulling her against him, lips still locked on hers. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and Nirya moaned, responding with nips and licks of her own.

Solas pulled back suddenly, pushing her away again, shaking his head. “No, no…as much as I want to, I cannot. _Vhenan_ …know that I do love you. But I cannot.”

Nirya let out a choked sob, fingers tightening on his arms again, attempting to lock him in place, keep him with her. “Solas,” she said, barely able to push out the words, “You will always be Solas to me. Even now…now that I know.” She steadied as she went on, decision made. “ _Himas sa i’em_ , Solas.” _Be one with me_.

Solas shook his head again, brows knitting in misery. Again his hands betrayed him, tightening on her waist and pulling her against him again. He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck, lips pressing into her flushed skin. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice now shaking with emotion. Nirya answered him by taking his face in hers, kissing him fervently.

It was the spark that primed the flash pan of their desire, the catalyst they both needed to burn.

Armor came off in a rush, buckles snagging and leather slapping down against the rocky ground. Clothes were easier, both of them impatiently tugging at buttons and clasps until they reached bare skin. Nirya gasped when Solas touched her, his hand shoving under the hem of her shirt and pushing upwards. She hurried to free the remaining buttons from their holes to leave him unhindered.

Through it all, they kept their mouths locked on each other as much as possible, kissing lips, neck, shoulders, anything they could reach. Their movements were frenzied, rushed, desperate to complete what they’d both been desiring for so long.

“Wait, _vhenan_ ,” Solas said.

Nirya stood before him, naked to the waist, her skin flushed, her breath coming in gasps. Solas’ hands were firm on her waist, thumbs tracing small circles over her hip bones. Tears welled in her eyes at his words. She started to stammer, half protest, half apology. Solas reached up to press one finger to her lips.

“ _Ar’an_ _isalir sila sahl’in,”_ he murmured. _We will want to remember this moment._ He moved his hand to cup her face, thumb wiping the tear from her cheek as he bent to kiss her again. He was slow and gentle, pouring all the love he felt into her through his lips. The hand at her waist inched upwards, while the other moved around to cradle her head.

Nirya matched his slow, languorous pace, twining her own hands behind his neck and pulling him even closer. The kiss went on for what seemed like forever, the two of them drawing out the moment to simply enjoy one another. Solas broke off eventually, reaching behind her with both hands to lift her up and hold her against him. He grinned wickedly, and his eyes flashed impossibly bright, so quickly Nirya was unsure she had seen anything at all.

Solas carried her to a clear space a few feet away, and laid her back onto the grass – grass which was soft and free of the stones that had littered the rest of the ground. She had a moment to marvel at the lushness of it, and then he was kissing her again, and there was only him, his lips on hers, his hands caressing down the sides of her body, his weight a sweet pressure between her legs.

Nirya sighed as he nuzzled into her neck, alternating between soft kisses and gentles nips of his teeth. He trailed kisses down her collarbone, then moved into the hollow between her breasts, hands reaching up to grasp hers as he went. Their fingers intertwined, and he held her still as he caressed her nipple with his tongue, drawing another gasp from her lips.

Solas slid father down her body, and his hands followed, drawing slowly down her arms and her sides and he neared her hips. He paused, looking up at her, and she rose onto her elbows to meet his eyes. Their gazes fixed on each other as he undid the leather ties of her trousers. The heat of his regard was palpable, searing, marking Nirya as surely and permanently as the Anchor in her hand, and no less painful.

Nirya was trapped in that gaze, unable to move, while his fingers deftly removed the rest of her clothing, leaving her bare before him. She trembled, although she was far from cold, her lips parting as she stared at him. _Gods,_ but he was so beautiful, terrifying and fascinating and _gorgeous_ , like a wolf glimpsed in the forest, drawing the eye while warning the rest to stay far away.

He surged forward, lithe and graceful, kissing her again with renewed ferocity, pressing her back into the grass, the length of his body matched to hers. He held her to him, as if he held tight enough they might melt together into one being and thus never be parted again. Nirya clung to him with the same vain hope, nails digging into his back drawing another growl from his throat.

She could feel the hard length of him trapped between them, and knew what she wanted. She pulled back from the kiss, her breath coming in quick pants. His eyes searched her face, unsure of why she had stopped.

Nirya reached down and gripped him, smiling a little as his eyes closed in pleasure at her touch. “Solas, _vhenan_ , _ar lath ma_ ” she said, low and urgent. “ _Garas, aman na'mis.”_

His eyes opened as she said the words, and he growled again. He pulled her hand out of the way and _moved_ , a powerful, yet almost lazy roll of his hips. Nirya shuddered and cried out as he filled her, the feel of him within her almost too much.

Solas was still for a moment, pressed his head into the side of her neck, his own breathing now uneven. His fingers tightened where he held her, and he began to move, slow and sure, listening to the sounds he drew from her with each roll of his hips and delighting in them, treasuring each one and locking them away in his memory. Slow, careful, and still he felt the pressure begin to build, the warmth that gathered in his core beginning to rise.

Nirya’s world narrowed to _him_ , his weight above her, and the power in his arms as he held her, the rhythm of his hips as he moved within her. Each stroke brought more warmth that she felt throughout her entire being, tingling in her fingertips, causing her to gasp and moan and shudder. She felt him react to her reactions to him, the subtle changes he made to touch _there_ , where she wanted, where she needed.

Solas felt her tighten around him, and her next moan was different, and he knew he had given her what she needed. A small grin touched his lips, and he kissed her again, matching the movement of his mouth to the rhythm of his hips. She moaned into his mouth, and he quickened his pace, his own desire taking over and breaking his fragile control.

Nirya cried out again, louder this time, breaking off the kiss. Solas bent his head and bit her neck, teeth sinking in just past the point of pleasure so that it was a sweet ache, a counterpoint to what the rest of her was feeling. She raked her nails down his back and he moaned into her neck, his pace quickening further.

They cried out together the final time as he shuddered above her, and she felt him spill into her in a rush. They collapsed back into a heap upon the grass, a panting sweaty tangle of limbs. Solas rolled to the side, gathering Nirya into his arms. He pushed her hair back from her forehead and kissed her temple.

Nirya snuggled into the circle of his arms, contentment lasting for only a moment as the realization of what was happening, where they were, what he would likely do came rushing to the fore of her thoughts.

“Solas,” she whispered. “Please don’t leave me. I could not bear it, _vhenan_.”

His embrace tightened as he looked down at her, his face a mixture of love, sorrow, and regret. Tears began to spill down Nirya’s cheeks once again, blurring her vision. Solas’ eyes flashed blue, and her world went dark.

***

Solas let her sleep, watching her breathe, giving her the gift of a few minutes of peace before he rent her world asunder yet again. His sorrow weighed down his brow, caused his shoulders to droop and his eyes to close. He took a shuddering breath, opened them again, and gently brushed a stray hair back from her smooth forehead before planting a gentle kiss there.

_You were real. You weren’t supposed to be real. It should change things, but it doesn’t. It can’t._

He rose and dressed, the donning of his traditional armor a ritual that brought him back to himself, back to his purpose, reminded him of what he had to do. He was a god now, for better or for worse. A wry, sad smile touched his lips at the thought. He did not have the luxury of choice any longer.

Once he was finished, Solas returned to Nirya’s side and dressed her as well. Then, he did what he had meant to do in the first place, why he had lingered to meet her here. With a word and a gesture, the Anchor moved from her hand to his, and her hand – lovely, graceful fingers and delicate nails – disappeared, too damaged by the magic to be of any further use.

One more thing for him to regret, but at least she would live.

Solas laid her back down onto the soft grass. He bent over her once more, kissing her lips one last time, fixing her face in his memory. His eyes flashed again, and Nirya stirred once, then lay still.

She would wake soon. He rose, strode over to the mirror, and walked through, closing the way behind him.

***

She woke, finding herself alone, her body no longer wracked with pain from the Anchor. She reached up to push her hair back from her face, saw her missing hand, and her eyes widened in horrified realization.

“Solas?”

Her breath came faster, her head turning around to look to either side of her, seeing no sign of him. She was frantic now, he couldn’t have left again, _not again_ , not like that, not after…

“SOLAS!” she wailed. She ran to the mirror, dark now, its light extinguished. She sank to her knees before it, pounding on it with her remaining fist as she cried. The blows echoed hollowly through the valley, and it seemed the spirits’ song was an echo of her sorrow.

“ _Solas,”_ she sobbed, and though her body was no longer being torn apart, her heart was in tatters, her soul in shreds, as she lost the last of herself.

***

On the other side of the mirror, Solas sank to his knees, and _wept._

***

“Heavy, so heavy, drowning…he left, _he left_ , again, I should have known, should have tried harder, should have –“Cole shuddered and fell silent.

“Cole?” Cassandra asked. “What are you feeling?”

“Is it her?” Dorian asked, tone urgent. “Is she alright?”

Cole looked up at him, eyes sorrowful. “No.”

***

They found her still kneeling before the eluvian, sobbing and rocking back and forth. Cole went to her, touched her shoulder gently.

“Nirya? It hurts, I feel it, I’m sorry. I hope I can help.” 

Nirya grabbed onto his hand like a drowning man grips a rope, clinging desperately to her friend. After a few moments she calmed, tears still flowing freely but her breathing less ragged. Cassandra and Dorian stood back, unsure of what to do.

Cole turned to them. “Wishing, wanting, willing…words, but she has no words now.”

Cassandra frowned. “What should we do?”

Cole looked back down at Nirya, and then bent down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. “She’s not heavy, but her heart is. I can help.” His eyes locked on Cassandra’s. “We need to go home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, if those kinds of things bother you please skip this chapter. The information revealed within will be discussed in the next one as well.

Sunlight streamed through the imported glass, dappling the bedcovers with rays of green, amber, blue, and rose light. The light creeped up towards the head of the bed as the sun rose, eventually shining directly into Nirya’s eyes, stirring her from sleep. The light caused a new spike of pain to shoot through her head, and she rolled to the side of the bed and retched.

When the spasms subsided and she blinked her eyes open, she saw that luckily someone had placed a bucket in precisely the correct spot. She silently applauded their forethought.

Nirya looked around blearily for her water cup; she was fairly sure that she had left it on the table next to her bed. But then, everything was …fuzzy in her mind lately. Ever since they had come back. Her hand fumbled, found the cup, managed to bring it to her lips. The water was stale, but still cold, and she swished some around her mouth before spitting into her bucket.

“My kingdom for some mint,” she muttered, falling back onto the pillow with a groan.

How long had she been laying here? Days? Weeks? Not likely. Josephine would have sent someone to check on her. Right? Probably. It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Not the pain in her head, the constant pain that had been present since he’d turned away, sometimes a dull throb but sometimes a sharp dagger-edged pain that cut at her until she fell unconscious to escape. Not the near constant sickness of her stomach, which she thought was probably a side-effect of the pain in her head. Not the loss of her arm.

 _He left. He_ left _me. AGAIN._

The thought screamed through Nirya’s mind again, and she would have sobbed if she’d had any energy left to put forth the effort. She let her mind drift, listless, the words repeating over and over at the back of her non-thoughts.

And now, because nothing mattered, nothing she _did_ mattered. He’d said so. She couldn’t stop him. She couldn’t save him. He was probably right, after all. He’d been around longer than anyone, had seen the results of his actions and had the knowledge to ‘correct’ them. She believed him.

She’d always believed him. That had been her mistake.

Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, sliding down her temples into her hair. She barely noticed. They didn’t matter anymore than anything else. A cool breeze chilled the trails of wetness the tears had left on her face, drew her attention to the open door across the room. The sun was streaming in through the opening, bright and cheerful, a few inches of light unfiltered by the glass.

Nirya was on her feet before she realized she had moved, pulled by the sudden urge to feel the sun on her face again. She stumbled her way across the room on legs atrophied from lack of recent use – how _long_ had she been laying there? – and pushed the door open further.

The warmth of the sunlight brought a ghost of a smile to her lips, and she tilted her face up to catch more of it on her skin. The enchantment that surrounded Skyhold held, and though she was surrounded by snowy mountain peaks on all sides and the wind was whistling past the corners of the tower, she was not cold. Nirya sank to her knees, eyes closed, enjoying something for the first time in days.

Was this what she was reduced to? Fabled Herald of Andraste, Leader of the Second Inquisition, a self-appointed hermit who only stumbled out of bed every few days to feel the sun on her face?

Nirya opened her eyes and looked at the railing. Stone, carved into crenellations that were supposed to mean _stop, don’t go further, danger_ but now seemed to beckon her to them, inviting her to see what would happen if she stepped over their protective hedge.  

And what would happen? She’d save herself seeing the destruction of everyone and everything she’d ever loved, at the hands of the only man she’d ever loved. Nirya snorted. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

She was closer to the ledge now, looking down at the snow-covered rocks below. Would it hurt? Would she feel it when she hit the bottom? Or would her consciousness simply wink out, without registering the instant her spirit left her body? And what about after? What became of her then? The knowledge she’d gained from her travels into the Fade and through the eluvians suggested that there was nothing _beyond_ , as such, no matter what the Chantry or the Dalish or the Qunari thought.

Nothing didn’t sound so bad just now, either.

“You can’t.”

Nirya turned sharply toward the sound of the voice. Cole. She closed her eyes and shuddered. She should have known he’d hear – feel? – her thoughts. And that he’d want to help.

She tried to speak, couldn’t, so she thought instead. _You can’t help me, Cole. Go away._

“I can’t. You can’t. We _can’t_.”

Nirya shook her head, tears flowing anew.

“I know. It hurts. It will probably always hurt. But you can’t. You have to stay, for both of them.”

She looked at him then, confusion showing on her face even though Cole wouldn’t need to see it to understand.

“Solas, yes, he’s still…there, still him, somewhere, deep inside. I can’t…reach him? Right now, but he’s there.”

Nirya gasped a sob, covering her face with her remaining hand.

“I know. I want to help, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Nirya allowed herself to think the question she longed to have answered. _Can we save him?_

Cole was quiet for a moment. “Maybe. But only if…you both try, together.”

The confusion returned anew. Who was he talking about?

“You know who. You haven’t let yourself know yet, but you know. He’s there, tiny flickering flitting floating, real-and-not-real, _inside_.”

Nirya’s eyes widened as she realized what he meant. Her hands drifted slowly to press against her belly, and she choked out a word.

“Here?”

Cole nodded, and pressed a hand over hers. It was warm. Nirya didn’t know why she suspected it would be otherwise; Cole was more human every day. But still, it surprised her. He squeezed gently.

“Here,” he affirmed. “He needs you. They both do. You have to stay. I’m sorry.”

Nirya clutched him, and sobbed, her sorrow now tinged with something new – joy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> All elvhen translations made using Project Elvhen by Fenxshiral, here on AO3. Collaboration project with my friends Elegantnanners and Therussetsparrow. Art to be added as the project continues. For the most up-to-date content, please visit sorrows-of-the-wolf.tumblr.com.


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